“Well, so long,” said he, turning on his heel, and starting to slip Dan’s knife into his pocket.
I seized his arm like a flash and wrested the knife from his hand before he could recover from the unexpected assault.
“No, you don’t. Oh, no you don’t,” I hissed furiously. “That’s my knife and I propose to keep it.”
“Why, you little hell-cat, you.” He burst into a laugh. “I didn’t mean to steal your knife. Gee, she’s some scrapper,” turning to Dan. “Wouldn’t mind having a pal like that myself.”
With another laugh he made his way to the rear of the train.
A half hour had passed when we were amazed to see him coming over the top with a coffee pot in one hand and a pan in the other.
“Thought maybe you might be hungry,” he said with an embarrassed laugh, as he set the pan of boiled meat and doughnuts on the bottom of the car. As he bolted toward the head of the train, we attacked the food with ravenous appetites.
We were so engaged when a man leaped from the boxcar behind, landing in the gondola with a clatter. I looked up into the amazed face of the conductor.
“Good Lord!” he ejaculated. “Well, good Lord, so this is what old Tight-wad was up to. What have you done to him anyhow? Hypnotised him?”
“What are you talking about?” asked Dan.